


Ghosts of the Past

by EverettVargas (EverettV)



Series: EngSpa Week 2017 [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Drabble, Emotional Hurt, EngSpa Week 2017, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 00:51:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11863212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverettV/pseuds/EverettVargas
Summary: As he watches the rain fall, he can’t help but think he hears the sound of a quiet, happy laugh. The one his lover used to give when the thunder would startle Arthur, or when he would complain about the rain leaving an eternal chill in his bones.





	Ghosts of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> "You still dream about the people lost in your memory, fabricated by your nastalgia and romanticised by your broken heart." - Unknown (As always let me know if you have a source for this quote)

The rain dripping on the glass of the window draws Arthur into memories, memories that he would rather not think about. It’s too late to pull away and forget, so instead he lets his breath fog onto the window as the raindrops play a never ending game of tag. His nose creates a single clear spot in the midst of the white circle on the once clean window. 

As he watches the rain fall, he can’t help but think he hears the sound of a quiet, happy laugh. The one his lover used to give when the thunder would startle Arthur, or when he would complain about the rain leaving an eternal chill in his bones. Antonio loved the rain as much as he loved the sunlight, Arthur knows. He never had the sense to come in, almost always caught a cold from splashing in the puddles. The one time that Arthur came out into the rain with him, they kissed in the way romantic comedies like to say is beautiful and magical, Arthur dipped halfway to the ground, water pooling between their lips before going on the rest of its journey down Arthur’s face to the ground. 

Arthur still remembers the joyful look in Antonio’s brilliant eyes and the way the drops would fall from his lashes to Arthur’s cheeks, almost looking like tears. Arthur’s throat tightens. Why didn’t he just spend more time in the rain with Antonio? Why didn’t he make a better effort with Antonio? Why can’t he remember the sound of his voice anymore? It hadn’t even been that long… 

Arthur remembers clearly that the sun wasn’t shining nor was it raining the day the memorial was held. Instead, it snowed. Arthur had stood in the mud, shaking miserably as he watched his only love being buried. He was convinced after that day that truly god didn’t exist, or else, why would he have taken away Arthur’s beautiful Antonio? A car wreck that only hurt Arthur had killed Antonio. 

Arthur sits back away from the window, tired of the cold eating into the skin on his face. He limps to the bedroom, falling into their bed, holding Antonio’s pillow close to his chest. Some days, like these, he’s aware of how little he ever really did for Antonio. He complained a lot, he never did anything with Antonio that Antonio wanted to do. Antonio always was doing things for him, he couldn’t have made any time? He couldn’t have just done stuff for him? His throat is tight and his eyes sting as his body shakes with sobs. 

The feeling of remembering Antonio is always too soon, too fresh of a wound. Sometimes Arthur sees things that he knows that Antonio would like, the tears and pain come back full force. The last thing Antonio had asked Arthur to get for him was a tomato, the hospital wasn’t allowing him to have any, and he couldn’t just go get it for him? He could have gotten onto his hurt leg, but he didn’t. Instead, he stayed in the hard hospital bed beside Antonio’s and listened to his lover singing. 

Until he wasn’t anymore. Arthur had panicked when Antonio fell quiet like that. He never stops himself in the middle of a song like that, he always sings them through to the end. Arthur still hasn’t gone through any of Antonio’s clothes or pictures, and won’t let his family do it either. He can’t imagine the thought of losing even a little bit of his husband. Sometimes he swears that he can hear the old acoustic being strummed but when he makes it back to the room it's still in the beat up old case covered in stickers. 

Arthur never got to see the world with Antonio like the Spaniard had always planned. On his laptop, all the plans and guides that Antonio wrote are still saved, but Arthur can’t bring himself to do something like that alone. He wanted to go with Antonio, but had always put it off, saying it wasn’t a good time to leave work, it wasn’t this, it wasn’t that. Why did he do that? Was he afraid? He isn’t sure.

**Author's Note:**

> "Find someone who makes you realize three things: one, that home is not a place, but a feeling. Two, that time is not measured by a clock, but by moments. And three, that heartbeats are not heard, but felt and shared." - Unknown 
> 
> Day 3: Prompt 23 for EngSpa week. The prompt was an image in this case, so my apologies, but I will not be sharing it here. Please let me know what you think! EngSpa is not a big ship of mine, and I feel like I don't really do it justice when I write it


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